Slices of Life
by Goon Du the Newbie
Summary: Life is like a cake. Each slice tells a different story about different people. Sixth Slice: Memories.
1. First Slice: The cyborg and the girl

Disclaimer: Nope, do not own Evangelion or anything.

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Silence.

The silence was interrupted by the hissing of the hydraulic door. Upon the entrance of the occupant, the computer terminal port hummed to live as the screen was litted up, bathing the darkened room with a faint of hue. The lights then turned on.

"You have one message," the computer announced in its feminine voice.

"Played it." the figure instructed. The figure was a staunch man, his hair was grey signifying its old age, his eyes were hidden or of a better word replaced by a visor.

The message played stiffened him and his hardened face immediately soften. A fragile, soft and unmistakenly feminine voice played over the speaker. Her tone despite being fragile, was filled with a tinge of cheerfulness and glowered with a spirit of a youth.

"Hi, Great Grandpa! Jane here. Sorry for bothering you, but I'm so bored! Its so lonely and quietin this hospital and nobody ever visits me, not even you._Pause_ So when are you coming over? I miss you -- "

The message was severely interrupted by the coughing of the caller. Her dry coughs were savage and violent, as if attempting to rip her lungs out. Keel's body shuddered at the cough, as if every coughs sent daggers to his heart. Eventually the coughing fits died down.

"Ugh, I don't feel so good, Great Grandpa, the medicine tasted yucky and I don't think it's helping me, I feel so tired most of the times and I think...I think..." The voice started to break down as sniffs soon came into the message with an accompany of sobs. Upon hearing it,Keel trembled, his shoulder stiffened, his fist clenched and his teeth gritted.

"I..I'm so scared, Great Grandpa! So scared, sometime, I felt like I'm going to die. Please come soon, please, I---" and Keel shut it off, unable to bear the pain any longer. With his finger still on the key,he stood theredeep in contemplation.

Lorenz, knew of her ordeal, he knew everything about it, he knew she was left with no kin except him, he knewher whole family including his son diedseven years afterSecond Impact, he knew that she had not many more weeks to live, and most importantly, he knew she was suffering and needall thesupport she could get. However, did the great grandfatherwhom her great granddaughter held in high esteem, gave her that support?

**No**

Why?

Becasue Keel Lorenz was a coward who could not face a very simple fact: that he could not stand to see her own granddaughter suffering. The sight of her lying on the bed. Pale skinned. Bald head. Hazy blue eyes...

"Stop it." Keel commanded, shunning the memory of the latest visit to his granddaughter who was the main reason why he wanted instrumentality, so as to give her, him and humanity, a paradise free of pain and suffering.

'Soon, Jane. Soon, you will be free of your suffering. Soon, so please hold on.' Keel thought and eventually he picked up the phone on his desk.

"Secretary Lee, cancel all my appointments and prepare a transport to the Elizabeth Hospital of Germany for tommorow"

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A/N: Oh my God, I completely made this sappy and chessy like some rip-off titanic wannabe movie with an increase of sappiness. God, I ought to be shot.

I know that it was highly unlikely, close to impossibility that Keel had great grand children, grandchildren or children (Watch EoE), but I just want to abuse my creative liscence for a while and played with the chracters.:P

Feel free to review as we all know, a constructive review a day, keeps the authors' misery at bay. :P


	2. Second Slice: A boy and the Soup

Disclaimer: Nope, do not own Evangelion.

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Shinji stared at the liquid in front of him.

It was dark green in colour with a continous swirl of murky yellow. On the surface lied a thick layer of oil and at the bottom lied a solid of a shape unknown to the young pilot.

Shinji looked up to the women in front of him with a look of perplex.

"Misato, this is..." the sentence trailed off, giving the cue for Misato to complete the sentence, his finger pointing towards the ailen substance.

"Soup, Shinji. Miso Soup." Misato replied, she smiled gently before breaking into enthuaism, "What are you waiting for, then? Drink up!"

Shinji wanted to protest and looked at his guardian, disbelief written all over his face. But Misato still stared, her eyes glistening with hope and her smile shinning with enthuasim. Under the gaze, Shinji just sighed and picked up his spoon.

An order to the toliet was soon to be ensued...

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_EPILOGUE_

_Taking a small portion of the liquid (Shinji refused to call it 'Soup'), he mentally took in a deep breath, many thoughts went through his mind, but all revolved one thing and dived the spoon into his mouth..._

_...And he convulsed, abruptly standing and making a bee line to the toliet._

_All these are in a matter of seconds before the sounds of vomitting ensued and the sounds of rushing water followed after that, accompanied by the sounds of wheezing from a fourteen year old teen._

_Misato stared dumbfoundly at the soup and winced a little at the predicament of Shinji._

_"Oh, come on. It can't be _that _bad." Misato mumbled, partially hurt by the rude reaction from her charge. Shrugging her shoulder, she dived the spoon into the soup, scooped it full and place it into her mouth..._

_The apartment was then once again filled with the sounds of vommiting accompanied by the sounds of the rushing water._

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Author's note:

_Humour sat on the wall. Humour rocked a little. Humour fell down to the ground flat, and in La La Land, the author can be seen running away from the hails of flames..._

Well, here comes the second slice, no sugar, no icing, nothing, except for fats. (If you get what I mean..)

If anyone finds this piece not humourous at all, then allow me to apologise.I'm still experimenting on what genre I'm suited best, so thus, please bear with me. I'm still trying to rid my system of the tragedy of early puberty...

By the way, thanks Vic for your review.


	3. Third Slice: Lifting the burden

Disclaimer: Nope. Do not own anything.

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The sun was coming down, drawing the curtains of the day, bathing the earth in a symphony of orange, red and yellow. For a normal passer-by, the view itself would be breath-taking.

For Kaji Ryouji, the view itself would have taken a more symbolic stance.

He was standing in the place where he dreaded most, the Second Impact Memorial. Built during the early days of Tokyo-3, the purpose of the Memorial was to remember those that had died during and after the years of Second Impact. The land reserved was huge and the main occupants were black obelisks, each and every one of them erected at a very orderly fashioned, like an army of death.

Kaji never liked the place in the first place. Every obelisk he passed by sent shudders down his spine for every obelisk reminded him of the days of his youth, the days of the post Second Impact, the days when he grieved for the lost of his parents, the lost of his brother, the lost of his friends and his home.

Passing by the many obelisk, he finally found what he had intended today and what he had not intended for many years before: the graves of his family.

He smiled sadly as a wave of nostalgia swept through him. Memories from the pre Second Impact time began assaulting his mind like a swarm of wasps, stinging his eyes and his heart, those time was filled with warmth, like a fire in winter and was so bright that it hurt, just to relieve it.

Shaking his head, Kaji tried to suppress those memories while putting the three bouquets of flowers in front of the graves., he had a job to do, a mission to complete, a promise to fulfil, and time, to him, was running out and racing against him. No time to reminisce, no time to regret, no time even to seek forgiveness. With that, he left, not before saying --

"See you in the heavens, father, mother, Jirou."

And with that, he left the cemetery, with a light bounce in his gait forsomewhere in his heart, a heavy burden was finally lifted.

That day was 12th of November 2015, the day Agent Ryouji Kaji was shot to his death.

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A/N: Back to angst? Back to touchy feely? Back to WAFF? The answers: Yes, Yes, Yes...for the time being.

I'm adapting the idea in the manga that Kaji had a brother. Though in the manga, the brother was never given a name, thus, I decided to once again, abuse my creative license to give him a proper name.

To "fan of this story", thank you for pointing out angst is my strong, however, I still want to tempt the light side though...

To Vic, thank you for that suggestion, I will try to explore on that 'introspection' thingy you suggested. Sound kinda nice.

By the way, Happy Belated New Year!


	4. Fourth Slice: Why did you not cry?

Disclaimer: Evangelion does not belong to me. I do not own Evangelion. Repeat.

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The human mind functioned in a strange way.

When the situation called for, some people would not be thinking what they should be thinking.

Such as you.

When you saw the infernal in front of you, your mind was not on how unbelievable the event had become. Your mind was also not foolishly hoping that your fellow comrade would miracously survived the ordeal either.

In contrast, you were actually thinking of the weather.You noticed the clear blue sky and the sparse clouds that dotted the sky. Thus, you deduced that it was a fair weather.

Then you remembered on how stories could be so cliche: When a tragedy happened, there would always be rain or at least overshadowing clouds...

However, this did not happen. Here, your fellow pilot was dead and the weather was fair and sunny.

How unfair, you thought. Then again, when was it ever fair?

When your father abandoned you, it was the same weather.

When your mother mysteriously left you, it was the same weather.

When your best friend almost got killed, it was the same weather.

When you were suffering in the Eva, it was the same weather.

Note the consistency, friend.

It was then, you finally accepted that lesson which you always knew but did not acknowledge: Life is not fair, period.

That was perhaps one of the many reason swhy you did not cry over her, Shinji Ikari.

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A/N: Bad...waaaaaaay bad. This chapter was delivered with a fresh truckload of suckiness. Can anyone pin point the negative aspects of this chapter other than the atrocious spelling and grammer?

Edit Glaring grammer is corrected (hopefully), all credits go to Vic for reminding to check my grammers.

On the other news, I have to apologise for this late update...


	5. Fifth Slice: Childish Art

Disclaimer: Nope, I do not own Eva.

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Shinji Ikari did not know how to react.

His teacher had sent him a package.

However, except for a box, there was nothing else sent from his teacher, no notes about the package, no cards of encouragement,.no letters of concern. Nothing, but a brown box.

The anticpation, upon this,died immediately, his shoulders slumped and his head hung. He did not know why, but he should have known it better. People just don't give a damn about him.

He then sighed and began to peel the duct tape which had been roughly and carelessly placed around the opening of the box. Opening the box, he eyebrows arched upward, eyes widened slightly and mouth agape.

The contents were a remanents of a bitter past: his childhood.

There were toy cars in it and various toy blocks thrown in for the mix, some crayons he had used when he was a child and even pieces of art he had drawn when he was small.

Picking one of them, he looked at it and his eyes softened, his shoulder slumped and his head hung low.

In the picture, there was a women, a men and a child in between with the word, 'mother', 'me', 'father' scribbled childishly on the paper. They were _beaming. _

Shinji just stared at the childish art.

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"I'm home." Misato entered the room, another work at the office, another day, another beer.

"Shinji?" Misato inquired as she felt the silence of the room; usually he would be watching television at this time around. Shinji was afterall, a human of habits.

Knocking on his door, Misato waited for an answer, however, she was greeted with silence. After several attempt, she decided to sneak a peek, just to sooth the gnawing anxiety. Opening a little gap, she peeked inside and sighed a relief; Shinji was lying on his bed, apparently asleep.

"Look like I've to make dinner myself." Misato sighed.

Unbeknownst to her, Misato did not notice a ball of crushed paper on the side of Shinji's bed.

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A/N: Well, I decided to haul my ass to wordpad and began to type another piece of crap. To my reviewers, thank you, once again for your input.

Feel free to review. : )


	6. Sixth Slice: Memories

Disclaimer: Nope, do not own Eva.

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Touji Suzuhara had many principles and beliefs about being a man. A real man.

_"A real man would never help, it hurts his ego, ya' know." he said as he held his head high with his arms folded._

_"If a man gets pushed around by girls, then his a sissy," he said, but before petting on Shinji's shoulder, "Like you!"_

And:

_"A real man never dwell at the past!"_

That last line struck a cord in his heart as he viewed at the black obelisk in front of him.

Kugimiya Megumi

1972 - 2004

"Wow, look at the dust collected." he sighed with the words were carried by a soft and gentle tone, which was unlike the usual rough-and-tough delivery.Lifting his hand, he swept off the dust which had made the obelisk their home for more than a decade.

"That's better," He smiled gently, as the polished surface of the black obelisk glistened under the afternoon sun, "Hello there, mother." he continued as he laid the flowers in front of the obelisk.

Staring at the name, Touji realised that he never had many memories about his mother. Those memories were like photographs torn in pieces: fragmented, still and vague, never complete, never whole.

However, despite being vague and all, Touji still felt a sense of peace and a sense of comfort as he now started to recollect those broken pieces.

_A women with a friendly smile._

_An embrace filled with warmth._

_A tone so gentle and kind._

_A scent. A scent of the flower, Calla._

And Calla, was what he had laid in front of his mother's grave.

Train of thoughts had collided with each other ever since he was chosen as the Fourth Child, the pilot of Evangelion Unit 04. Many had stemed from his well-being of his sister, to his family, however, it was the thoughts of his mother that had eventually led him here. The presence of the obelisk was enough to make him calm.

_"A real man never dwell at the past!"_

That advice was given by his father. His father whom he admired, his father who threw all the photographs related to his wife, his father who tried very hard to forget all about her.

_"A real man never dwell at the past!"_

The advice once again reverabated in his mind like an echo, he could picture his father's face when he said those words, those red-shot eyes, those quivering lips and those clenching fist.

_A real man do dwell in the past, however, under the good light of it, dad._

With that Touji marched towards the train station, his face baring grim determination. He never turned back, never looked back, for he knew that the memories of mother were best placed in the heart.

Not in the grave.

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A/N: Oh my God, I totally mutilate Touji's character! I'm such a bastard!

Well, this is officially the last chapter of _this _story, meaning Slices of Life. From now onwards, Slices of Life will be grouped under different stories. Basically, each character would have their own seperate piece instead of mashing everything into one fiction. Reason being is that I felt that different readers like different characters, thus, by seperating them, I would probably get more constructive reviews.

Thus...

Track 25 and 26

"Slices of life" stories of Shinji Ikari.

Pride. Ego. I.

"Slices of life" stories of Asuka Soryu Langely.

Apartment 402

"Slices of life" stories of Rei Ayanami.

etcetcetc.

So what do you all think of the new arrangements?

Well, until then, review!


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